Wicked Scandal (Misfits #2)

Chapter 7

CATHERINE

He’s gone.

Troy is gone for the next four nights.

I’m literally bursting at the seams with excitement. Even my students take notice. Brady Newton made a comment about how I look exceptionally happy this afternoon. A minute later, Julia Denver said I was glowing. I have to agree with both of them, not only am I happy and glowing, I want to dance and sing and shout.

This is how I want to feel every day. The simple freedom to make my own choices and have my independence back. Even if it’s brief, it makes me wish for more.

I step in front of the class, looking out at all my students. “If everyone could sit down, we’ll get started.”

They scramble to find their seats, and once they do, I make an announcement. “I’m feeling extra generous today, so instead of continuing with our lesson plan, I’m allowing quiet free time.”

Instant chatter begins, so I raise my hands then lower them. “I’m not finished.” Once they settle again, I continue. “I highly suggest you study as much as you can for the practice exam tomorrow. If you have homework from other classes to catch up on, you can do so for the next hour. Or, you can talk quietly amongst yourselves. If the class gets too out of hand, I’ll be happy to continue our discussion on literary criticism.”

Chitchat rings around the room again, but for the most part, they keep their voices to a minimum.

Taking a seat at my desk, I open my laptop and log into our online portal to check assignments that were submitted from an earlier class.

As I’m clicking through them, I lend an ear to some gossip from a trio of girls.

“I can’t believe you actually asked Wilder Cromwell to prom,” one of them says with a mixture of shock and admiration. “What did he say?”

I glance over my laptop, anxious to hear Sam’s response. Word around the school is, Wilder isn’t going with anyone to prom. He even made a video about flying solo with his friends.

“He said, maybe,” Sam tells them. “Which basically means yes.”

Instant jealousy strikes. I don’t know why, and I don’t like it, but it’s there. How is it that I’m happy for Wilder, but not at the same time? I can’t make sense of my own thoughts.

Good for him, though. Wilder deserves to live out these experiences. He’s already too mature for his age. It will do him some good to let his guard down and enjoy a night out with a date to prom.

But Sam, really? I would never speak my thoughts to a single soul, but he’s too good for her. Hell, he’s too good for any girl in this school. Sam has bragged about having sex with many guys on the football team; I even heard about her sleeping with a few of them at the same time. I’m not judging, I just think Wilder is too mature for her.

Sam’s friends gush over her response, squealing and hugging her. “Oh my God! You are officially the luckiest girl alive.”

I have to agree with her friends, though. Sam’s pretty lucky. Wilder is a great guy. So great that I find myself envious of this eighteen-year-old girl. It’s ridiculous. Of course, he would go to prom with someone his age.

It shouldn’t bother me like this. I shouldn’t care. And when I see them slow dancing together at prom, it won’t bother me one bit because these are monumental moments in their lives that each one of them should experience.

It’s an event I’ll be experiencing as well since I signed up to be a chaperone. I haven't even mentioned it to Troy yet, but one of our deals was that he will not interfere with my job. Even though he doesn't hold true to his word nine out of ten times.

“This is crazy!” Sam’s best friend, Abby, exclaims. “Did you see the video he posted today? Do you think…”

“No fricken way,” Sam says. “It couldn’t be about me.”

Nyla clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “Girllll,” she drags out the word in exasperation. “If he said maybe to prom, it has to be about you. I mean, who else would it be about?”

Dammit. I picked a terrible time to delete that app. I listen intently, hoping to get a clue as to what he said or did on his video to make them think it was about Sam.

Is he crushing on her? Of course he is. Sam’s beauty is undeniable. She draws the attention of all the guys at Willow Creek High. Rumors have swirled around the school about her, some not so great, but they could just be whispers of jealousy from other girls.

Jealousy of my own is biting at my stomach right now. So much so that I reach out and grab my phone. Before I can talk myself out of it, I redownload the app.

Bouncing my knees under the desk, I wait impatiently for the loading circle to disappear. Anticipation gnaws at me, and I don’t even recognize who I am anymore. Wilder is eleven years younger than me. Eleven years!

I can’t even begin to entertain the idea of us.

But, no one will know I watch him in secret, or that we chat outside of school hours. No one will ever know because I will never tell a soul. Not even Wilder.

As soon as the download is complete, I open it up and log into my account.

Before I even start his recent video, I open my chat and see three unread ones from Wilder.

WildMisfit: Can I ask you a question?

WildMisfit: Never mind. I don’t want to pry. Curiosity is just eating at me.

WildMisfit: Screw it. I’ll ask anyway. Do you go to Willow Creek High? Lately, I find myself looking for you, but I don’t know who I’m looking for.

It ends there, awaiting my response. I chew on one of my nails, debating a response. Why is he looking for me? Especially if he’s interested in Sam. I shouldn’t want him looking. He needs to stay in his world and I need to stay in mine.

So I type out an answer.

CatEyes: You’re not prying. And yes,I do go to Willow Creek High. I see you every day. But you shouldn’t be looking for me.

I hit send, hoping I didn’t go too far with this one. I’m not being dishonest. I do go to Willow Creek High—just not as a student.

I’m surprised when his response is immediate, especially since he’s in another class right now. If I remember right, he’s in computer science and it is his least favorite. Is it creepy that I know his schedule? Probably.

I sigh as I wait in anticipation for his message.

WildMisfit: So when do I get to officially meet you?

I smile at my phone, wishing I could tell him we’ve met while he fully ignores my advice not to look for me. As much as I want to tell him I know more about him than I should, and he knows me too, I also know I need to be the one to draw the line here.

So, I play it safe. I need to get him off my trail, not closer to it.

CatEyes: What makes you think we haven’t already met?

WildMisfit: I see how it is. You’re toying with me now.

CatEyes: Maybe I am ;)

One thing I know about kids like Wilder, it’s they get bored when responses aren’t immediate. If I can keep it vague maybe he will become less interested. And maybe I will lose this pull to him in the process.

WildMisfit: Ok. I’ll play along. Can I at least get a hint? Do we have any classes together?

I bite my lip because now he sees this as a game, which was not my intention. Now I’m stuck, because I don’t want to lie to him.

CatEyes: We have one class together.

WildMisfit: You’re a senior?

CatEyes: That’s more than one hint. But I’ll bite. I’m older than you, if that tells you anything.

This is getting dangerous. What is it about him that has me forgetting my head every time we talk? No matter how much I want to kill the conversation, I can’t help but keep it going.

WildMisfit: Older, huh? I’m intrigued. Any plans once you leave this hellhole?

As if I can ever leave…

CatEyes: I have big dreams when I get out of here. Doesn’t mean they’ll come true, though. How about you? What do you aspire to be when you “grow up”?

I put grow up in quotes because I don’t picture him as a kid. He is more mature than my husband the vast majority of the time.

WildMisfit: Doesn’t matter what I do. For me, it’s all about being happy. Happiness is the driving force behind anything I do, both now and after graduation.

That’s an odd answer. Is Wilder not happy here?

CatEyes: And what is it that makes you happy?

WildMisfit: Right now? Talking to you.

I blush at his answer, unable to contain my smile. He is my escape from my life here, and maybe I am his too. But I won’t fall for his charming ways so easily. After all, I can see right through it.

CatEyes: Smoooooth!

WildMisfit: I’m trying.

I laugh out loud, give the room a quick sweep to see if anyone noticed, then return to typing when no one seems to care.

CatEyes: I like talking to you. Not much makes me smile these days, but you do.

I don’t know why I’m being so open and honest with him, but it feels right.

WildMisfit: There is so much in life worth smiling about. Care to tell me what has you down?

There’s a pang in my chest—an uncertainty if I’m ready to tell anyone about my misfortunes in life. But, I know I can trust Wilder, even if he doesn't know who it is that’s putting their trust in him. I guess that makes it easier to be honest with him, in some sense.

CatEyes: My home life is…let’s say, rough. Some things happened in my past that make it hard to leave.

WildMisfit: You can’t let your past be an anchor. Life is too short.

CatEyes: If only it were that easy.

He has no idea what hangs over my head, the sins I committed that keep me here and chained to a monster. What’s worse is, I could never tell him. He would look at me differently if he knew what I did. Everyone would.

WildMisfit: Who says it can’t be?

CatEyes: Honestly, only you. But you’re only getting a small glimpse into my life. If you knew about my sordid past, or what I endure daily, you’d run. I promise you that.

The ugly truth hurts. If Wilder had any idea what he was getting mixed up in, he wouldn’t just run, he would never speak to me again.

WildMisfit: Give me a chance. You might be pleasantly surprised.

CatEyes: You surprise me every day just by being you.

WildMisfit: In that case, I think it’s time I return the favor. Let me be surprised. Are you ready to tell me who you are?

A giggle escapes me and I look out at the class, making sure no one noticed before returning to our chat.

CatEyes: I’m warming up to the idea.

Lie. He can’t find out and I won’t tell him. He already knows too much. If he figured out it’s me, I have no doubt he would be able to put all of the clues together and see who I really am. I just can’t be a monster in his eyes.

WildMisfit: Guess I need to up my game. What is it that makes you smile?

CatEyes: Right now? Talking to you.

WildMisfit: Look at you being smooth ;)

CatEyes: I’m trying.

I mirror his words, hoping I can help bring him as much joy as he brings me. Even if it can only be like this through messages.

WildMisfit: Well, I’m currently walking around the classroom like a creep, peering over shoulders to see if you’re in here. I’ve officially ruled out this class. That leaves only five other options. One way or another, I’ll find you.

CatEyes: In that case, I wish you luck.

WildMisfit: Thanks. I think I need it. Plans this weekend? Luke Aaron’s party, perhaps?

CatEyes: I wasn’t invited.

I feel like I just got a cold bucket of water dumped over my head. He is going to a party this weekend with high schoolers. Jesus, Catherine, why are you still talking to him?

WildMisfit: Consider this your official invitation. Will I see you there?

CatEyes: Parties aren’t really my thing. I’m not allowed to go out much.

WildMisfit: Strict parents?

If he only knew.

CatEyes: Something like that.

WildMisfit: You don’t know it, but you pretty much just cut my list in half. I’m getting closer to finding out who you are.

CatEyes: Maybe you shouldn’t try so hard. You might not like what you find.

Suddenly, the bell rings, startling me. I immediately slam my phone down, face down. Students rush out of the room and I raise my voice, slicing through the chatter and shuffle of feet. “P-practice exams tomorrow. Get some studying in tonight.”

It’s pointless, no one is listening anyway.

Once the room is empty, I pick my phone up to read the last message from Wilder.

WildMisfit: I can’t wait to prove you wrong.

An instant smile cracks my lips. I know I’ll never expose who CatEyes really is, but that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy the way talking to Wilder makes me feel.

“Mrs. J,” I hear Wilder holler from behind me in the parking lot. I know it’s him because I’d know his voice anywhere.

I spin around and see him jogging toward me, wearing a sweat-drenched white tee shirt with the sleeves cut off and a pair of gym shorts. Nervously, I adjust the stack of folders I’m carrying. “Hey, Wilder.” I smile as he closes the space between us.

“Sorry to hold you up, but I wanted to share the news.” The excitement on his face is uncanny. His hands fly up, his grin stretching from ear to ear. “My father loved the article.”

“Wilder. That’s amazing.” Instinctively, I throw one of my arms around him while the other smashes the folders against his body. He embraces me in a hug and it feels calming, like I can finally breathe. Even as I inhale the smell of sweat, I can’t help but think this is one of the best hugs I have had in a while. There’s a safeness in his arms that has me holding on even when I know I should let go.

“I couldn’t have done it without you.” His voice is a whisper in my ear, a yearning deep inside it. I can’t help but want to reach out and reciprocate. I feel his fingers run through my hair and I shiver before immediately letting go and taking a step back, careful to put the folders in my hand in front of me, almost like a shield. I need distance to think around him.

He looks down at the space between us, something shifting in his demeanor. And when he looks up, surprise has whitewashed his excitement.

“Wilder? Is everything okay?”

Time seems to slow down as he stands there staring at me as if he just had an epiphany of sorts. I can’t put my finger on it, but something is different.

“Umm…” His fingers draw around his mouth. “Yeah. Everything’s fine.” His smile returns, even bigger than it was seconds ago. “Actually, everything is perfect.”

“Good.” I run my hand down his arm because I can’t help but touch him. “I’m really happy for you. You deserve all the praise you’re getting from your father.”

His honey brown eyes pierce mine. The tension between us growing heavy. And when I watch his gaze dip to my mouth, I gulp.

Everything I’m feeling inside is wrong on so many levels. My heart shouldn’t be pounding like this for him. My hands shouldn’t sweat. I shouldn’t want to cry and let go of all of the pain inside me. He’s my student, and that has to be all he is.

“Mrs. J?” Wilder says softly and I can’t tell if it’s a question, or if he has something more to say. His eyes meet mine and I try like hell to show him I can’t do this. No matter how much I want to, I can’t.

When his hand reaches out and his fingers wrap gently around my wrist, I’m certain I’m going to break. But not in the way that will cause me physical pain like Troy brings, I am going to be torn in half by the two sides of my heart that are warring over this being right and wrong.

As his fingers graze my skin, causing a rush of electricity to shoot through me, every nerve ending feels like it’s been lit on fire. I gasp, my lips falling open while Wilder pins me with his gaze, intention and determination swirling in the depths.

My chest rises and falls rapidly as we stare longingly at each other. I watch him carefully, the way he’s reacting proof that he feels the exact same way I do.

“Wilder,” I whisper, knowing I should follow it up with “I should go,” but I don’t. Instead I stay rooted in place, letting the weight of his name hang between us like a heavy rain cloud ready to burst.

He steps closer, his eyes darting from my mouth to my eyes, and back again.

Moving his hand to my cheek, he strokes his thumb in gentle circles. “What are you doing to me, Mrs. J?”

His question brings me back to reality.

What the hell am I doing?

Wilder is my student.

I’m in a position of authority here. He’s eleven years younger than me and hasn’t even graduated high school yet.

I jump back, so quickly that I know he senses my anguish. I can feel my heart splitting as I put distance between us. It is so painful that tears fill my eyes.

“Go home, Wilder.” My voice trembles as I shake my head. “This moment never happened. It never happened. Do you understand?”

His brows pinch and that smile from earlier fades as he comes to terms with what I’m saying. “I understand,” he says quietly, but I feel a “but” hanging in the air.

I turn around quickly, my heart in my throat as I fight the urge to look back at him. I can’t. I won’t.

“Mr. J,” he calls out as I open my door. I glance back at him, keeping the door between us.

“Yes, Wilder?”

“Pretending it never happened doesn’t change that it did.” His voice hits me like a tidal wave and I find myself practically running from it before I allow temptation to draw me back to him.

I get in my car and toss the folders in the passenger seat as my heart threatens to pound out of my chest. They go flying, sending papers all over.

Cursing under my breath, I lift my eyes to the windshield, only to find Wilder still standing where I left him. His shoulders are slumped in defeat and the scorned look on his face sends an ache to my chest.

If only we’d met at another time, in another place—then maybe. But reality grips us too tightly and the here and now is not meant for us.